Duet
by Fauxstales
Summary: Alfred Jones and Arthur Kirkland are two musicians that met at an "Exceptional Musician's" support group, Alfred being a blind pianist, and Arthur a mute, ex vocalist now violinist. This story portrays the events of their relationship as they learn to love one another despite the many demons they face. USUK! Cover art and beautiful AU (c) Fishie (talk-to-the-fish.tumblr .com)
1. Chapter 1

"Ahahah! I still can't believe that worked, Arthur. I mean, I knew that Ludwig was easy to fool, but I didn't think it would be _that_ easy. Good thing he did, though, that meeting was boring as heck."

Alfred sat in the passenger seat of Arthur's blue smart car. While he was a good head taller than his companion and originally had hated the strange European vehicle with no leg room, he finally started to get use to it after the many sessions in which they'd ridden together. The carpooling had been his mother's idea, to which Arthur had shown no physical signs of objection...not that he could verbally express it.

"But really, that fainting was legendary, man. You deserve an oscar."

Arthur gripped the wheel tightly in his hands, turning another corner silently on autopilot towards his house. Alfred had been right that the meeting of the "Exceptional Musicians", as they so politely called it, was more dull than usual, which is why he'd gone along with the theatrical stunt in the first place. He had to hand it to him, the way Alfred had dolled up Arthur's supposed nausea, rubbing his back and ironically helping lead _him_ out of the music room of the old high school was quite effective. It really said something about your current state of health when you have to be assisted by a blind man.

"You must have picked up some acting talent while you were still a singer, huh?"

If Arthur could possibly grow more silent, he would have. He hoped that the lingering lack of any recognition of Alfred's statements was hint enough that he did not wish to talk about it. Alfred caught on quickly and, however silly it might have been, turned his head to stare out the window. Black. It was always black. A perpetual evening filled eclipsed by his own faulty eyes. Even though it had been a good three years since the onset of his cataracts, he'd never truly get use to this infinite darkness.

It wasn't long before he felt the car come to a stop, the sound of Arthur shuffling to remove his belt and open the door prompting him to do the same. These short moments, when he no longer had someone or something beside him, scared him the most. As soon as the car door opened, he reached out his hand, raking the air for some human contact to bring him back from his empty world. Arthur gladly took it and helped him out with a gruff but audible 'huff' from the effort.

"Are you trying to say something, Artie? I'm not getting that heavy am I?"

Silence.

* * *

Once they entered, Arthur helped lead Alfred to the couch in the dining room. Though he was sure that Alfred was capable enough to maneuver his way around, his partner hadn't visited his home all of two times since they started dating.

"So since you dragged me all the way here, Artie, what are we going to do?" Alfred asked once he was settled on the couch. His hands rubbed the fine suede, testing his surroundings. "I was thinking we could maybe watch a movie or something. I'm actually pretty good at guessing what's going on in the scenes-My active imagination also makes it easy to imagine everyone hotter than they actually are."

Arthur rolled his eyes and placed his hand on Alfred's shoulder. He pressed down on it gently until he managed to get Alfred to turn his head towards him. He proceeded to take Alfred's hand and started to write with his index finger what he intended. Thanks to Alfred's more acute sense of touch, though the lettering might have been obscure to some, the young man seemed to easily deduce his intentions.

"You're going to make sandwiches? Ha! You really are a gentleman, aren't you? Well sure, but I'll need about 5 of them-growing boy, ya know? Make sure that they don't have any pickles, though. Bleh, those vinegar-laced cucumbers are so strong they make me sick."

Arthur nodded out of habit and tapped once, their universal code for 'yes' that had been established during some of the Exceptional Musicians meetings when whispers or notes of affection couldn't be passed. In truth, Arthur didn't mind the use of touch as their main means of communication. Ever since his voice had been taken from him, physical contact was one of the only true ways he could express how he was feeling. He knew Alfred could sympathize with this. He let his partner's hand drop back into his lap and then headed towards the kitchen to prepare their meal.

"Don't try to slip me any tea this time either!" Alfred raised a finger to the side of his nose, as if impersonating the chubby Christmas saint's method of travel. "I've got a sharp nose and I won't easily be fooled again."

He could imagine Arthur waving him off dismissively, but how he would have loved to see it instead. Alfred knew that Arthur had chosen to be in a relationship with him despite each other's disabilities, fully aware that a normal relationship would be difficult if at all possible. Then again, what was _normal_ to someone like him? He'd managed to becoming an accomplished pianist, having received little to no professional training, and sought challenge after challenge to improve his ability. It was Arthur who took it harder, he could tell. What he had in sight, he lacked in sound. Arthur had been brave enough to share some of his earlier tracks he'd recorded in his private studio with Alfred on one of his first visits. He'd remembered the heaving sobs that racked Arthur's body as Alfred cradled him tightly; it was the only real comfort he could provide.

Demons of their past lives haunted them both, though for Alfred, this was more of a literal case. Before he'd lost his sight, he would often see shapes drifting in and out of is peripheral view. Vague apparitions with equally vague intent, as nothing bad ever happened after seeing them. They were just _there_. A constant plague on his sanity. Their shapes and sizes changed, but their presence was always assured. Day or night he could see them floating just out of reach. No one else ever saw them. How foolish he'd been to think that wishing them away, wishing that he could no longer see them, would work. Even after becoming blind, when the rest of the world faded away, they remained. Glimpses of what he thought was reality faded in and out of existence. It got to the point that, sometimes, Alfred couldn't tell he was imagining them or if he was the one being imagined in this ghostly world.

His hands groped the air before him in desperation before returning to touch his face, sliding the dark shades up above his hairline. He covered his eyes, as if that would stop them, shield him from their haunts. When he was younger, it stopped them. Now that his life was void of light, it did nothing. The sensation of the couch beneath his back began to vanish, the nothingness of it all consuming him into their shadowy world.

"Arthur…"

His voice was no more than a whisper, a child-like plea for help. He gripped the lining of his jacket tightly, becoming faint of breath.

"Arthur?!"

This time with more fervor, fearing that his voice wouldn't pierce the darkness. He sunk inwardly to himself, using all his typical methods to calm down. He counted to ten, he tried to call forth his most treasured places of his childhood, construct a world that wasn't so void and frightening. He even attempted to hum the 'Mission Impossible' theme. His mother had suggested that, instead of running from the ghosts, he should try becoming a spy and 'hiding' from them. Though it was an extremely off-key impression of the tune, it was the idea that mattered. It wasn't working.

"Arthur!"

Just as he was about to stand up and begin his frantic search on his own, someone grabbed his shoulder and squeezed it tightly-tight beyond a reassuring gesture. It was strong and bold. It spoke volumes beyond what a light pat or even a comforting hug, and though it was a tad painful, it was enough to shake him out of his episode. He fell back in the couch and slumped, Arthur following him to sit directly at his side, all the while softening his grip on Alfred's shoulder. The boy lifted his own hands to find Arthur's face, feeling the lines of his apologetic frown, the furrowed extremely fuzzy brow that he had, on more than one occasion mistaken for caterpillars. Alfred eventually calmed and sighed.

"I-I'm sorry. Y-you sure do take a long time to make sandwiches…"

Arthur looked over Alfred's haggard face with concern, and though he was uncertain of what triggered this reaction, which he'd witnessed on numerous occasions now, he'd found that acknowledgement of another's presence was enough to soothe him. He attempted to smile, Alfred's long fingers tracing the form of his lips and proceeding to smile in return. He still wasn't entirely use this strange form of intimacy they shared between them, but it was theirs nonetheless. He pulled his face away, hand still on Alfred's shoulder, and used his free hand to reach into Alfred's pocket.

"Woah! Easy there, champ, " Alfred cautioned, twisting to the side in both as a means to shy away from Arthur's pursuit and ease whatever task his partner was trying to complete. "We've only been dating for two weeks, don't you think this is a little fast?"

Arthur ignored the quip and finally removed the phone from its carrying case, beginning to search through the apps to the voice recognition app. He wasn't the best with technology, but Alfred's brother Matthew had shown him how to navigate the blasted thing in his spare time that made organizing their concert a few months prior exceedingly easier. He began to type his formal apology as Alfred waited beside him. The boy wore a strangely excited look on his features, but Arthur shrugged it off. Alfred always carried himself that way.

When he finally pressed the key for the device to speak, he awaited the robotic tones of the phone's automatic voice system to relay his words and was met with a rather unpleasant surprise.

"Alfred! I'm so sorry, love. I didn't mean to leave you alone like that. I won't do it again!"

The highly erotic and suggestive timbre of a female voice erupted from the phone, making the entire scene feel more like a porn movie instead of a sincere request for forgiveness. Arthur's eyes shot down to the phone, bewildered and highly embarrassed while Alfred sat beside him, rolling with laughter.

"Ahahahaha! How do you like your new voice, Arthur? I thought Siri was getting pretty old, so I convinced Matthew to replace it with Sound bytes from some of my dad's old DVD's-You know the ones. Yeah, he normally wouldn't do anything close to this for me, but it helps when you have ears that can hear just about anything that goes on in the house. Can't keep secrets from me." Alfred stifled more laughter, pushing his sunglasses the rest of the way up his face so he could wipe away the tears.

"I'm gonna KILL you!" Arthur typed in a response, though his intent was lost in translation when a sigh escaped the phone that left both of them stunned to silence. It only lasted a brief moment before Alfred burst out laughing again.

"Oh _are_ you now?" Alfred's eyebrows raised above the level of his shades, smirking.

Arthur, fed up with the whole thing, threw the phone at him, and just barely missed hitting his crouch. Alfred flinched, hands fumbling to the area with a grin still plastered on his face.

"Careful! With the way you've been talking, I might need those later."

Alfred could almost feel the heat radiating from Arthur's cheeks, and he most definitely felt the hand that he shoved into his face, pushing him over on the couch. Alfred just continued to laugh hysterically, laying there on his side, wishing he could witness the "gentleman's" expression.

Arthur gave up any efforts to use the booby-trapped phone and resorted to sitting with his arms and legs crossed, staring angrily at the TV. It took a minute or so before Alfred righted himself and pressed his shoulder against Arthur's.

"Come ooonnnn. It was pretty funny, admit it."

Arthur wouldn't. He scowled. he scowled as loud as he could in hopes that Alfred could hear him. Obviously he didn't.

"Phew! Well now that my fun's over...where are those sandwiches you took an eternity making? Don't tell me you were secretly making tea and that's what made you late."

Arthur blinked over in Alfred's direction. Without his shades, he could see his clouded eyes. It was a shame that such expressive, large, gorgeous eyes had been taken from him. The world had no mercy. But perhaps it was the tiniest bit kind. After all, it had brought Alfred to him.

Arthur sighed and took Alfred's hand, placing his partner's palm in his own, and tapping three times with two fingers.

Alfred's head tilted to the side.

"Three taps? I thought we agreed that one was 'yes', and two was 'no'. What does three taps mean?"

Arthur slowly and carefully drew the halves of a heart on top of his hand, pleased to see that it was his companion's turn to blush. Alfred drew his hand back to his face and coughed, half-turned to the side.

"R-right. How about we put on a movie and eat those sandwiches now. Just don't make it Lord of the Rings or anything like that. I don't have two days to watch it. You Brits and your extremely long drawn out movies…"

Arthur, satisfied with this response, swiftly returned to the kitchen to retrieve the sandwiches and start the movie, ready and waiting for the 'director's commentary' that Alfred so generously provided. As he settled down next to him, Alfred shyly placed his hand on the couch cushion between them. Arthur took the invitation and the two intertwined their fingers, holding each other tightly. Suddenly Alfred began to sniff the air and shot him a look of disbelief.

"Really…?"

Arthur squeezed his hand and began sipping his tea.


	2. If Only In My Dreams

Christmas Eve. For most, it was a happy time of celebration and wonder. Christmas cheer filled the air, the temporary feeling of family togetherness ran rampant through households across the world, and good will towards all men was fostered. Why then, was he sitting alone staring at the blank pages of his journal, Arthur Kirkland pondered.

It had been a few years since his sickness that lead to the eventually loss of his voice, but each year, it never failed to remind him of all the Christmas concerts he wasn't participating in, the carols he'd never sing again, and the gratitude he could never truly display for gifts he received. He sunk down into his cool pillow, placing the journal over his head. What good was there in trying to be jolly?

It was the harsh clink of stone against brick that managed to bring him out of his self-pity pit. He lifted the book gradually off his face, wondering if it had just been his imagination. A second clink, louder and more urgent this time, dispelled his doubts. He pushed himself up from the bed and made his way to the window, not believing the spectacle he had waiting for him. There stood the tightly bundled form of his boyfriend, Alfred Jones, sunglasses and all. The young man was groping the ground for additional ammo, as no doubt he'd been standing there for the past few minutes hurling projectiles at the side of Arthur's house.

The sound of Arthur opening his window signaled the other to stand up, abandoning his quest for the perfect stone with which to summon the Briton.

"Sweet! Did I hit the window this time!?"

Arthur leaned against the sill, staring down at him with as he leaned his cheek on his hand. In truth, the young man had missed Arthur's window by a good three feet, but it was a fairly good approximation for someone completely blind.

"Anyway, Artie, I convinced my mom that you had invited me over for Christmas Eve plans, so let's go make some Christmas Eve plans!"

The straight-forward, spontaneous ways of the American never ceased to amaze him. Nor did his powers of telling lies, a skill that had lead to many of their 'romantic get-aways' in the past from those dull support-group meetings and awkward parental observations during practices. Here he was, yet again, attempting to convince him to go on some grand adventure-he didn't have to ask twice.

Smiling like a child on Christmas morning, Arthur sprung from the window to fetch his coat and scarf, hoping Alfred wouldn't take his dismissal as a sign he was refusing the offer. He flew down the stairs, pausing for only a moment to wave at his mother who was busy finishing her cross-stitching, and shut the door behind him. His mother was use to these enthusiastic departures from the house by now...And what better way was there to spend Christmas Eve?

Absentmindedly, he rushed to his boyfriend in a full-frontal hug, nearly toppling him over as he was caught off guard by the unfamiliar action.

"Woah! Heh, good to see you too, Arthur."

The two shared a deep embrace, Arthur burying his head against Alfred's old tawny jacket. Normally Arthur would avoid the stuffy-smelling outfit, but tonight, he wouldn't trade it for the world.

"Sooo are we just gonna stand here hugging in your front yard? Not that I mind, but it doesn't feel very Christmasy."

As if finally acknowledging his actions, Arthur backed up, straightened his own trench coat, and stifled an embarrassed cough. He hoped Alfred would catch on, and indeed it was but a brief moment before Alfred continued.

"Alright-Now that _that's _over, why don't we head downtown and go see the lights? I know some pretty good spots that my family use to visit every year." He closed the gap between them once more and placed his arm over Arthur's shoulder. "Stick with me, kid, and I'll show you some prime Christmas-time locals."

Arthur ignored the fact that he was a good two years older than Alfred, and merely conceded to walk towards his Smart car with Alfred still hanging off of him. Soon they arrived downtown and entered a world vastly different from their meager cul de sac. The office buildings towered above them, apartments like quilts patched with windows decked in holiday apparel while others were left sadly plain. Alfred had been insistent upon Arthur turning to a Christmas station as they drove down the vibrant city streets, and a Christmas classic had inspired the young man to start singing...if one could call it that.

"Baby it's colllld outside!"

One of songs of the season Arthur was least fond of, but tolerated as long as Alfred was enjoying it. Still, as the vocalists shared a harmonic duet, Arthur couldn't help but feel an uncomfortable tug at his heartstrings. How he wished he could fill in the parts of the tune Alfred intentionally left silent for his partner. Thankfully the song soon ended and the chimes of 'Carol of the Bells' replaced it.

"Too soon! Too soon!"

Alfred wailed, reaching forward desperately to switch the station to one of the dozens that were covering the land with yuletide merriment. The cause of his refute was that, just the night before, they had participated in a concert with their support group of "special musicians" (as they liked to call it). Carol of the Bells was the unfortunate piece he and Alfred had been assigned this year. Hours upon hours had been spent rehearsing and performing those blasted runs to sync timing and inflection. Arthur had no objections to Alfred's decision to forgo listening to it on their time off.

Under Alfred's direction, Arthur parked on a side street a few blocks from the city square and the two began their trek towards the festivities.

"And one year, mom bought me and Matt these GIANT candy canes. I mean seriously dude, you should have seen them. They were at least THIS big," Alfred took his hand from Arthur's momentarily to represent what the Brit was certain was an extreme exaggeration of the treat's actual length. "It took me and him almost half a year to eat them."

Alfred had been going on and on since they'd started their journey. This Christmas, that Christmas, the baubles and parades, opening presents in the wee hours of the morning when any sane human being would be asleep. However, Arthur enjoyed the one-sided conversation, because in the other's bright smile and raised eyebrows he could see himself. The crisp, snowy air of early mornings in London when typically reserved, emotionless neighbors would go out of their way to wish him a "Happy Christmas", the comforting smell and sweet taste of rice pudding. He was so preoccupied with his visions that he barely noticed where they were going until Alfred gasped.

"Artie, I think we're here!"

Eyes blinking away from his companion, Arthur had to squint some to combat the brilliance from the impressive display. In front of them stood at least a 30 feet tall tree. It towered high, the star atop it blending in perfectly with the celestial bodies above it. Every inch of it was covered in technicolor bulbs; golden sleighs, Santa hats, snowflakes, and a cacophony of animal ornaments accented the sparkling garland that slung about the branches like some iridescent scarf. Low, flame-hued lights shone from beneath it, accenting every shimmering bit of tinsel. The tree was literally glowing.

Arthur couldn't help but feel a tear forming out of the corner of his eye, immediately lifting his sleeve to wipe it away. Alfred squeezed his hand reassuringly, his gaze never leaving the direction of where he could sense the tree was.

"It's beautiful, right? The town always does a great job with it…" He paused and the beamed as a thought came to his mind. "Heh, I'll bet you there's a tiny reindeer just a few branches up from the bottom-Do ya see it?"

Determined to locate this novelty, Arthur followed his boyfriend's instructions and, sure enough, there was a tiny ornament that one could possibly call the crude shape of a reindeer next to a bright red bulb. Astounded by Alfred's deduction, he turned to him for an explanation.

"When me and Mattie were little, they held a contest for all the kids in the city to have a chance for their ornament to be featured on the tree down at city hall. Obviously I knew that my own design would be the best, but mom suggested we work together-ya know, to have a better chance of winning. We worked all night on that stupid little clay reindeer and nearly cried our eyes out when our dad thought it was a goose." Alfred laughed loudly at the thought of it. "Needless to say the judges didn't share his opinion, and we had the honor of placing it on the tree that year….The crew that sets it up apparently puts it in the same place each Christmas."

Arthur watched Alfred fondly as he retold it, rubbing the back of his boyfriend's hand with his thumb in tender affection. He noticed, however, that Alfred's smile began to fade. However much Alfred gushed over the astounding decorations and recounted his childhood, his Christmases would forever destined to be dark and lonely. Arthur laced his arm in Alfred's, standing close to reassure him of his presence, despite whatever Alfred was 'seeing'.

"Let's keep walking-The old church a few blocks from here always has some great floral arrangements and they sometimes have a live nativity!"

Following his directions as best he could, the two came upon a towering Catholic cathedral. Medieval-looking archways formed the wide and open doors of the church as the congregation gathered for Christmas Eve Mass. The din of voices rose above the brisk winter air and filled the night with song. The verses were familiar, the transitions and melodies etched into Arthur's memory. He found himself subconsciously wording the Latin phrases, throat straining as no sound came out. His lips formed into a tight line, eyes falling to the ground, letting the choir's voices wash over him. He wanted so terribly to leave, to not be reminded of his ailment when this night should be nothing but peace and love.

As to read his mind, Alfred dismissed the scene with a nod of his head, moving forward to lead the expedition this time.

"Let's keep going-I know a great spot not too far from here to see into the valley."

Despite how ridiculous it might have seemed (a literal blind leading the blind), Arthur trudged behind him, still clasping hands.

They continued wandering away from the crowds, the sound of the choir still faint in their ears. Although this side of town lacked the hustle and bustle of the square, quaint store fronts modestly decorated for the holiday lined the streets. In all honesty, the Briton rather liked this over all the excitement they'd been in earlier. It was calm, quiet, and Alfred was was with him to enjoy it: that was the most important feature. A light tug against his arm beckoned Arthur from his musing, realizing just now that the other had stopped.

"Hey Art, is that up there what I think it is?"

Without hesitation, he followed Alfred's point to the dark sky, the winter solstice bringing with it an entirely new set of shimmering constellations. He searched for something of interest for a good minute or so before he understood the absurdity of his quest. He glared back at Alfred, disapprovingly. If Alfred had been amused by his prank he didn't show it and kept his to gaze trained up at the heavens.

"No no I'm serious! I think I see some mistletoe up there."

_So that was it._ Arthur huffed as loudly as he could, hoping his point would get across.

"You don't believe me? I'm not sure if you're aware of this or not, Artie, but whenever you find yourself under mistletoe, it's holiday law that you kiss. Disobeying the command of the magical Christmas plant will have dire consequences."

Dead silence.

"What consequences you ask? No one truly ever knows and lives to tell the tale," Alfred paused for dramatic effect, putting his hand to his chin, obviously concerned with their fate. "But it's dire. Trust me."

Just as Arthur was about to start moving again, his body tensed, feeling the strong arms of the American around his waist, swiftly scoot him back. Arthur's eyes instinctively flicked in all directions, scanning the nearby area for any spectators. At least they truly were alone; if Alfred had heard anyone in the proximity, he surely wouldn't be doing this...Right?

The young man's attention was captured by Alfred once again as he leaned down to whisper in his ear. Arthur was thankful for once that his reddening face couldn't be seen as Alfred's fervent breath sent a chill down his spine.

"You know, I heard the quality of the kiss is directly related to how good your christmas will be," Alfred drew back once again, staring down at him matter-of-factly, "So no scrooges, okay?"

If Arthur could have ba-humbugged he would have, and obviously Alfred caught on, laughing brightly at seemingly nothing. Still, Alfred was extremely superstitious, and Arthur was never one to argue with the American's misconceptions of the supernatural. He pulled away from Alfred's hold, the other reluctant to set him free before realizing his partner was returning of his own free will.

"Oh, so you decided to humor me? Good, because we don't need any ghosts visiting us telling us to live the spirit of Christmas in our hearts all year long." Alfred shuddered some at the mere idea of it. He saw enough apparitions as it was. "Well I'm ready when-"

Arthur was fairly certain that the young man would have continued talking non-stop the rest of the evening had he not lifted his finger to his lips. Alfred instantaneously quieted, his shoulders becoming unexpectedly rigid to the touch. Arthur's hand drifted smoothly down the side of Alfred's cheek, brushing the smooth skin with affection. It was so warm, and the longer he held his hand there, the warmer it got as a soft blush in anticipation settled over him. Arthur lowered his hand a few inches more, taking his lover's chin and tilting it down towards him while simultaneously pushing up on his heels to meet him.

He pressed his lips against Alfred's cheek, tracing his pronounced jaw line, the American's shiver prompting a satisfied smile. Their lips greeted one another, shyly at first, soft pecks in rhythmic succession that melted into lingering embraces. Alfred's once stoic stature relaxed as his arms went from Arthur's shoulders to the Briton's lower back, leaning into each kiss with subtle longing. Arthur's hands likewise grasped at his boyfriend's golden locks, interlacing his fingers between the short strands. He closed his eyes and fell into Alfred completely, searching listlessly for his target.

Open mouthed, he did not rebel when tongues start getting involved. In darkness, he sought only his lover: his familiar touch, his smell, his passionate advances. Nothing needed to be seeing. Nothing needed to be said. Together, in this moment, in this act of complete surrender and longing they were on equal ground. Arthur planned to stay there as long as he could, and was admittedly sullen when Alfred withdrew from him with a tender kiss on his forehead.

Arthur opened his eyes once again and looked up to Alfred, uncertain of how the other would respond to their overzealous interaction. Alfred cleared his throat and took his hands away to shove them back hurriedly into his pockets.

"Ahem yes….The Christmas magic seems most pleased with that. I think we're safe for another year."

Arthur suppressed a chuckle, but Alfred's keen hearing caught it. The boy's ears flushed as red as rudolph's nose, turning away to hide the embarrassment.

"We should...head back before it gets too late. Christmas magic also says we need to be in bed before midnight or Santa won't come!"

_Oh no, not this tripe again_, Arthur thought, heaving an audible sigh, to which Alfred only ignored and gestured forward with vigor.

"Don't upset the balance!"

Later that night, the two sat on the couch facing the Kirkland-family tree. While not nearly as extravagant as the one downtown, there was an undeniable beauty in the whole setting. Christmas Eve, in the ambiance of tree lights and candles, deep within the folds of fuzzy sweaters and the arms of a loved one. Arthur rest his head under Alfred's chin, Arthur's parents long since having gone to bed, leaving them to appreciate the evening alone.

"Thank you, Arthur."

Arthur opened his eyes to observe his boyfriend curiously.

"For a long time I thought that the Christmas magic wasn't hearing me….I made wishes every year. For good health, to return my sight, to make the ghost vanish. But every year, I never got what I wished for." His voice began to fade, Arthur straightening to sit up next to him. "I think that it was just waiting for you to come along to grant them."

Arthur swallowed, fighting back the wave of emotions that threatened to surface. Carefully he took Alfred's hand in his own and tapped three times with his index finger. Alfred's features softened, grinning widely while leaning down to rub noses with his mute partner.

"I love you too. Merry Christmas, Arthur."

* * *

This is was a Christmas/Birthday present for my dear Fishie! Hope that this is what you were thinking of, I tried making the babus be babus like you suggested. It was really good to get back to this AU (though troublesome to write as always). To all who read this, thank you and may the Holidays bring you nothing but joy and love.

~Faux


End file.
